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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25546801">The Truth is Out There</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskedNightingale/pseuds/MaskedNightingale'>MaskedNightingale</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, Awkwardness, Body Swap, Cryptic Alan Deaton, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Nemeton, Old Norse, Paranormal, Runes, Steter Week, Steter Week 2020, The Norns - Freeform, UFOs, Underage Kissing, season 2 divergence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:27:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,050</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25546801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskedNightingale/pseuds/MaskedNightingale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There's unforeseen consequences when both Stiles and Peter follow some strange bright lights hovering over the Beacon Hills reserve.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Steter Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Truth is Out There</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Day 2 of Steter Week: Paranormal Activity</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter woke up to the feeling of strangeness and the other. An arm covered his eyes but it was not as heavy as his limbs had felt when he was first resurrected. It was strangely light. His body ached, but that was to be expected; his body was still healing along with his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His senses weren’t back yet it seemed but he could still smell honeysuckle and pine which  stirred his thoughts. He jolted forward, his eyes opening to see not the motel room he had gone to sleep in, instead it was a room with posters on the walls and clothing slung over a desk to his left. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stiles, are you awake?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eyes widened as a knock came from the door on the far left of the room, and Peter looked down to find not his body but the body of a teenager. Not any teenager, it would seem. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stiles?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m...awake.” The voice that came from his throat was cracked but softer than his normal body’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sheriff’s head ducked in, “I’m going to head off to the office. Make sure to get breakfast before you head off to school.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter could barely nod before the sheriff was gone. Shifting so his body now stood, Peter walked over to the mirror that hung over the bedroom door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before him was the image of the girl that faced the mad Alpha with a fearless face. The girl who had tried to reason with a madman, before she stepped back and let her friend set him on fire. A hand raised in the mirror and touched the face that had looked so stricken to see him go aflame. The girl that he should have bitten instead of the boy that had been in the woods that night. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, this is new.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Across town in a motel, Stiles was waking up from her sleep with a moan. She winced as she heard what sounded like shouting coming from the other rooms, she could hear everyone. She covered her ears and curled up in a ball, but her body felt heavy like she had weights lining along her limbs slowing down her movements. The sounds still came through her fingers and she let out a yell that sounded more like a roar, pain shooting through her skull like little knives were digging in. With a gasp she cradled her hands to her, her eyes opened only to find her fingers longer and bigger with claws at their tips with pinpricks of crimson blood. With a shocked yell, she rolled off the bed before shifting onto her hands and knees and standing up more fluidly than she had ever done before in her life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning she caught a reflection in the mirror across from the bed she was on, “Shit!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning her head around she searched the room for the figure she had seen, the very impossible figure she’d seen. He was nowhere in sight, but as she turned fully towards the mirror he was still there. Raising her hand she gaped as the image reflected the same action. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the hell!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stood still unable to comprehend what she was seeing before her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter Hale. Mr. Creeperwolf-Extraordinaire. Peter Hale who she saw burnt to a crisp (she still had nightmares, his eyes watching her as he burned). </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This couldn’t be happening. Sure werewolves were real, but zombie-werewolves? Not even mentioning the strange Freaky Friday situation she found herself in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A stirring from down under made her look down, only to groan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nope, this is not happening.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Closing her eyes Stiles fell back on the bed behind her, trying to ignore the urgency to pee the body she was in was having. Her eyes shot open before she sat back up, “Wait if I’m in his….oh...gross.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She began rolling back and forth on the bed before sitting up, “I can do this. I’ll just not look. Yep…” Standing back up she headed toward the bathroom, her head up and confident until she stood before the toilet. Closing her eyes she shed the pants that the body was wearing and sat on the toilet, wiggling until she felt the appendage point down so she could do number one. Staring up at the ceiling and counting in polish until she finished. She looked at the toilet paper before yanking her head back up when it was about to look down and looked to her left at the shower. “Shower it is.” Quickly divesting of the clothing, and hopping into the shower and being grateful to whatever fates were out there that it was a removable showerhead so she wouldn’t have to touch anything she didn’t want to; she quickly washed off before getting out. She searched the small motel room and was thankful to finding clean clothes that she quickly put on, a very uncharistic high pitch squeal coming from her when at one point her hand brushed against something she didn’t want to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All in all she got through getting ready for what the day would throw at her with minimal mental scarring. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite the possibility of him ripping her head off, Stiles was thinking maybe going to find Derek would be the safest choice. Deaton knew about stuff, but wasn’t ever very forthcoming and she always couldn’t shake the heebee-jeebees when she was around him. There was always something about him that felt wrong, like he was waiting for the perfect moment to dissect her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, glancing at the mirror and watching as Peter’s handsome features formed a scowl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why do you have to look so pretty?” Stiles sighed, and put her hand on the door only to jump a mile in the air when a firm knock came from the other side. With a wince, she tried to focus her suddenly enhanced senses on the person on the other side. Something felt familiar, but she wasn’t sure if it was familiar to her or this body. Peeking through the eye hole, she let out another sound this time close to almost a wolf’s whimper when she saw Derek all red eyes flashing on the other side. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know you are there, Peter. Open the door.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then the oddest thing happened, there was a whisper in the back of her mind that sounded strangely like Peter but not at the same time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alpha.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Putting the chain on the door, even though she knew it wouldn’t stop Derek, she cracked the door open and whispered, “How can I help you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let me in. Now.” Derek seemed to be very close to wolfing out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a whisper to no one in particular towards the ceiling, Stiles opened the door but hid behind it until Derek shoved past. Stiles closed it and looked warily at the fuming Sourwolf. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um...so you are probably not happy to see me.” Stiles winced even as the words came from Peter’s mouth. Derek silenced her with a glare.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is Gerard planning?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why would I know?” Stiles pulled out the chair in front of the desk by the door and sat down but then wrinkled the nose before shifting. “How do you dudes sit without sitting on them?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Derek watched his eyes narrowing as he saw his uncle fidget, he’d never seen his uncle fidget. In fact, the way he was fidgeting was more like something that Stiles would do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong with me?” Stiles let out a laugh before faltering at hearing the deepness of it and then feeling the tell-tale signs of a blush coming on. “Oh you know...wake up in a body that’s not my own. A body of someone that was dead last time I checked. You know the usual, Beacon Hills crazy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Derek's eyes narrowed even more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, did I forget to mention that its Stiles inside of here?” Stiles tapped Peter’s forehead, “Not sure how this came about, pretty freaked. Pretty done already. I never wanted to be a dude, wasn’t even curious and its not even been an hour since waking up and I’m so done. I feel violated is what I feel, because if I’m in his body then does that mean he’s in mine?” A shiver ran down her spine and she could feel it down to her….nope she shook her head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles didn’t even realize she was pacing before Derek grabbed her wrist to stop. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really aren’t Peter, are you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no I’m not. Ow…” Stiles yelped when she scratched herself with the hand’s nails that had lengthened once more in her distress. “So what now?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We go get Peter.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter was back to the place where he believed it all started. The last thing he remembered the previous night was bright lights over the preserve. He had followed them at a distance but found that they led him to the Nemeton. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We thought this might be where you would be.” Derek’s voice chimed from behind him, and then his body’s voice chimed up after.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is weirder than I thought.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter turned and smirked at his body carrying Stiles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Stiles.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grinned wider as he saw a shiver go through his body and then let out a laugh that shook the body he was in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suspect you came here last night as well.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. It’s been a weird week. There was these hovering lights over the forest, I’m pretty positive that they were some kind of extraterrestrial vessels.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter’s face rose an eyebrow as Stiles' body nearly bent over in laughter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Derek spoke up, “I doubt it was aliens, Stiles.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? It could have been!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t say such hilarious theories while in my body.” Peter shook his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles shook her head before striding forward, but not before sticking out the body’s tongue. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is this place anyways? It feels familiar but I don’t know why.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s the Nemeton. It’s the beacon of Beacon Hills.” Peter answered and watched as his body’s eyes widened but the curiosity within them was all Stiles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nemetons were sacred places for the Celts. They believed that they held the magic of the land.” Stiles’ hand brushed against the stump, and felt almost what felt like a static shock reverberate through the bones of the hand. She smiled, “I like to think that magic is just science that hasn’t been explained yet.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter set his current hand upon the stump as well, eyes narrowed as he felt the same shock….and then there was silence all around them. They looked at each other not moving their hands until they jumped back as if they were burned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>On both their hands were two different symbols.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Derek came forward and looked at their hands, “It’s time to go to Deaton.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah man, not him. He freaks me out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That may be but Derek is right that he’s probably the only one that would be able to translate these markings.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Find the truth?” Stiles asked before sighing out loud and leaning against the nearest wall. “Great! Just great! Even more cryptic shit.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Deaton gave her a look of disapproval but there was still that odd look that she didn’t like. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well my best guess is that you will be switched back after you find this truth.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles let out a small yell before stomping out of the veterinary clinic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Although I agree with your sentiments, the temper tantrum will not help us come closer to a solution.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His arrogant words would have rubbed her the wrong way on a good day, but that day coming from her own voice drove her further up the hypothetical wall. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Find the truth! What truth! That could mean literally anything. I can’t be trapped in this body forever! I don’t like it. It’s creepy. I barely made it through going to the bathroom once, and that was because I solved the problem by taking a shower instead of touching something I didn’t want to but I can’t keep doing that...that’s impractical.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter just watched as his body paced back and forth, waving its hands in the air before promptly sitting on the hood of Derek’s car and pouting. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Imagine how I feel waking up to find I’m a tiny female body with barely any body mass with none of the senses I was born having. It has been quite debilitating.” He stopped at the death glare that she was sending his way, before drawing closer and bracketing his body with her small one and leaning in so that they were only a breath’s distance away from each other, “Maybe if we work together we can solve this, hmm…” He eyed the pout that was on his lips, the oddest desire to kiss them coming to his mind. He was leaning forward and his lips brushed hers and vice/versa before she gaped and pushed him back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you just kiss me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter smirked at the body he was within still leaned forward seductively, “If you have to ask I must have not done it right.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do realize you are basically just kissing yourself, right? Isn’t that a little too narcissistic even for you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He chuckled, though it came forth a bit more breathier than he had originally intended. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I actually kissed you while I’m in your body.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles stared up at her features with the wolfish grin and flirtatious sparkle, a bit shocked her features could morph into something like that; though she had never really tried before...then suddenly his words registered and she blushed bright red. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How strange to see myself blush.” Peter tilted his head to the side, marveling the new look upon his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enough you two.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-----</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No matter how many tomes they went through in the old Hale archives nothing seemed to give a clue to what had happened to them or what had done it to them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With much reluctance Peter went back to the Stilinski home before quote Stiles ‘her father sent a manhunt out for her’. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t all a loss though, after growing bored and sleep evading him he had begun to investigate Stiles' room. He had always been curious about the girl. She faced the world head on. She had taken to the realization that her world wasn’t as it seemed in stride. She had helped her friend find his anchor and help control his violent tendencies. She was fiercely loyal even to those who didn’t completely deserve it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her phone had opened up with her fingerprint and as he perused her text messages, he saw what her friendship with Scott really was like. He had seen glimpses before but it was still sobering. She gave so much, but when she was dealing with things and tried to reach out she would be shut down or ignored. He opened up her picture album and saw many of Scott, Scott’s mother, Beacon Hills but very few of herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perusing her closet he saw that she wore only to cover and hide. Her computer which he could not access had sticky notes all around its corner in shorthand. Her bookshelves were full of mythology, fairy tales, Polish literature and coding manuals. It wasn’t until he had paced several times across the room that he noticed an irregularity on the floors. Interested he moved several pieces of furniture out of the way and then carefully peeled up the corner of the carpet until it revealed an irregular pattern in the hardwood underneath. Underneath was a hidden hideaway, a secret trove. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were a couple of trinkets; a necklace, a pocket watch and a couple of international coins. But then beneath the trinkets there were the journals. They were started as early as she was nine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mother has been getting forgetful. It’s been going on for a while, the doctor’s made a diagnosis. She’s got some rare brain disease…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mother grabbed me the other day, said that the Norns were coming for her. I looked it up; they are the beings of fate in Old Norse legends. She said I was a reminder, that they were coming to take her away.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mother was taken away today. She was screaming when they took her away, saying that I was killing her. Am I?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dad won’t look at me anymore. I think I look too much like her...well except for my eyes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The posts dropped off for a while before they started again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dreamed of a fire last night. I could hear screaming. I was trying to find someone but the smoke was burning my eyes and then there was so much pain. I woke up screaming….I threw up when father came in smelling of a fire, a whole family up in flames. Maybe I am cursed.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter had to take a deep breath after the last post; tears were threatening to fall from his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Scott is a werewolf. I feel like I should have known. When I wanted to go out that night, my instincts were telling me to go alone but I brought Scott and now he’s a werewolf.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next post was smeared by what almost looked like tear tracks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I saw a man burn today. I can’t get him from my mind. I feel empty. It feels as if something was taken from me but I don’t know what it was.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The last post caused Peter to lay his head back onto the edge of the bed and close his eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His name was Peter and I think I’m the only one who mourns him.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-----------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles woke screaming and Derek barging into the room he had leant her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” He looked around trying to find some sort of assailant but instead only saw the image of his uncle curl up in the bed and let out a sob. “Stiles?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Something is wrong or something is going to go wrong. Someone’s in pain, but I don’t know who.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Derek treated Stiles like she was ticking time bomb after that, edging around her as she made up some oatmeal in his kitchen as if afraid he’d jostle her the wrong way and she’d spontaneously combust. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How often do you have these dreams?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles shrugged, “Off and on.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What she wouldn’t say, couldn’t say was that she had one the night before the Hale fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Stiles shook her head and looked back toward him, “When is Peter supposed to arrive?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He should arrive in the next hour.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Except Peter didn’t come, not for an hour or several. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Derek, can you check with Scott? He might not answer but…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Derek was already on his phone, “Scott, have you seen or heard from Stiles?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was weird to hear her name in a question like that, but that’s how the last couple days had been; just plain weird. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Derek looked up from the phone and shook his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s probably up to his old tricks again.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right.” Stiles hoped for a strange moment that Peter was up to his old tricks, even if he was doing them in her body; because it would be better than what the sick feeling at the pit of her stomach was telling her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Night reached them. Derek had gone, having pack business at the old train depot. Stiles had been left behind, after reading through more tomes and archives and finding nothing she had begun pacing again. The back of her mind telling her how Peter would not appreciate how she was biting down his nails, but she ignored that little voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stopped and stared outside the loft’s large industrial windows. Her instincts told her what she needed to do and this time she would listen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--------------</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles sucked in a deep breath as she climbed through her bedroom window only to see blood upon its sill. Creeping into the room, a brief moment of her smiling at thinking she was the creeper wolf this time before the smile fell as she saw her body curled up and shivering on the other side of her bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Running toward it she knelt beside her body, “Peter? Can you hear me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>An almost whimper came from the body before a small voice came from it, “How can you live with such a frail body?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She chuckled the sound rumbling across her flat chest, before she bent down and picked up her form before carefully placing it on top of her bed. Carefully she took of her shoes and tucked her body beneath her constellation bed sheets. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where does it hurt?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ribs. It was the bastard Gerard.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t tell him anything did you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small grunt of pain as the body shifted, and Stiles’ face quirked up an eyebrow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was there to tell?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She let out a sigh of relief, “How do I do the pain relief thing?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter shifted and lifted her shirt up, “Touch and focus your thoughts on drawing out the pain to help the healing process.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles marveled at Peter’s large hand on her rib cage, his hand was so large. Taking a deep breath she shook her head before focusing her eyes flashing amber. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your eyes flashed amber.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmm…” Stiles was still focusing and watching as her veins turned black as she drew the pain from her body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Despite being in my body, having my wolf, you're still innocent.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles looked up into her body’s amber eyes, “I might have not killed anyone but there’s plenty of times I perhaps could have saved someone but didn’t.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter shook his head, Stiles minimal curls flying from behind his ear. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How can you use a power you don’t understand?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You…” Stiles eyes darted to the side of the room where she knew she hid those deepest thoughts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugged but then winced, “I was bored and found an interesting trove of reading material.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles eyes flashed up to his before looking away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then you know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You couldn’t have stopped it. You were only nine. Just like you couldn’t have stopped your mother from passing. None of it was your fault.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles teeth clenched and Peter watched as his own eyes glared back at him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t know that!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come here.” Stiles' own voice beckoned her to climb into bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles sighed before taking off the dress shoes his body had on, and the leather jacket before climbing into the small bed next to her own body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When did you become so wise?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peter chuckled the sound softer than his chuckles when he was in his own body. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Through trial and error; and I suppose clarity from no longer having the madness from before creeping in on me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles sighed, “Why did you offer me the bite?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A thin arm curled itself around a muscular waist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You fascinated me. Derek would speak of you when he first started visiting, mostly complaining about you. Then you taunted me at my most dangerous time. You kept surprising me over and over. I was sane enough by then to not want to force the bite on you, I wanted you as a willing second.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles let out a sigh, “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Stiles looked into her amber eyes she could see his blue in her mind eyes and found herself leaning forward to brush her lips against his. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was gazing at her with her amber eyes but his features were softer now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His next words ruined the moment though, “Who’s the narcissist now?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stiles let out a huff before ducking her head, suddenly feeling exhausted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know it might not matter much from me, since I’m not really the person that should be doing it but I forgive you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stiles fell asleep shortly after feeling her lips brush against her body’s forehead.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Sunlight streamed in through the window and Stiles stretched her limbs out wincing as she did so; before rolling over into the warm body beside her. Eyes flashing open, she looked at the body her hand lay on. Then she stared at her hand, turned it over and no longer was there a strange rune. Tilting her head up she met the blue eyes of her bed partner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Stiles.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a smile upon her lips, Stiles breathed a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning Peter.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this was a hard one to write. First because it ended up being longer than I was expecting &amp; second because its hard to describe actions certain character's takes while viewing someone else in their body. I hope it wasn't too confusing. </p><p>Please let me know what you thought. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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